


Masks

by Aynde



Series: Amorralok Week 2012 [1]
Category: Legend of Korra
Genre: Amorralok Week, F/M, Fraternal Polyandry, Multi, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 23:16:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aynde/pseuds/Aynde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the public denouncement and defeat of Amon, the city has cause for celebration of the peace. At yet another ball in her honor, Korra runs into a masked figure who haunts her with his familiarity, and he is not alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masks

Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen.

One more stroke, and it was perfect.

Korra let out a whoosh as a sigh, and put the paintbrush aside. She was glad that was done.

Everything else was assembled. Pema had taken Korra dress shopping earlier, and Asami had recently done her hair. If left alone, Korra knew that she'd just throw it in her usual style, which wouldn't suit the purpose of the evening – a masquerade.

Especially since Korra was sick of being hailed as Avatar, who stopped the Revolution in its tracks. Nobody would recognize her tonight.

Pale greens and crème, delicate embroidery of leaves and vines. Tonight, Korra would portray the classic Ba Sing Se beauty. Delicate and calm.

Her mask was that of a proud Pygmy Puma queen, with delicate strokes of crème for facial markings and some green accent, as well as the interior around the eyes.

Carefully checking the drying paint, Korra held the mask up to her face. A totally different image stared back at her, the proud features matching the blend of cloth, greens reflecting an illusion at her eyes. And with her hands covered, there was no way to tell that water tribe skin.

With the mask on, you couldn't even read the heartbreak in her eyes.

The string music was snappy. The atmosphere was at a high point, with people dancing left and right. Others crowded in groups, speaking raucously among themselves. Others spread good will left and right, and Korra was sure that their cheeks were bright from alcohol, if she'd been able to see them.

Former Chief Bei Fong had been wrangled into giving the opening speech. It was thankfully short, but with strong enough words to rouse the people.

Everyone was celebrating the one year anniversary of Amon's defeat. Everyone.

So Korra drifted about the party, occasionally pausing to nod or shake heads in amiability. She spent her time people watching, and guessing what kind of person was beneath the mask.

The rigid stance of a traditional earthbender. Hand kept touching his wife, pregnant. Perhaps United Armed Forces.

A slender man holding court. Korra didn't need to do anything more than glance to know that Tahno was up to his usual haunt, flirting left and right. He was such a peajay. Fluttering about, showing his colors. But, Korra, had to give it to him, he was far more honest these days.

Korra kept to herself the night, trying to dig under people's masks and skins. Perhaps if she'd been able to see behind Amon… Korra shook that thought off.

And there was Jinora, a blossoming young lady and in Republic-Water Tribe clothing, it seemed. A tribute to her grandmother, and probably a way to escape the eye of Tenzin-

Red clothing, edged in muted ash brown, with gold clasps. Korra looked up, to find the fierce face of a Fire Nation hawk. He had pale eyes behind the mask, and held himself like someone who kept getting up again.

Behind him was another man, decked out in Water Tribe, Northern. Smoky grape and grays, with some dark shots of waterbender dark blue made up the Northern court garb. His mask was a polar leopard, a face like narrowed eyes waiting to strike. This man's countenance was deliberately relaxed, but seemed to have some annoyed vibe at the Fire garbed man.

Who held out a hand to her, in indication of want of a dance. Korra stepped back instinctively, she wasn't dancing tonight – when she saw the flesh around the prosthetic arm, rough burns that she wasn't surprised didn't take his life as well as hand – he had to have been healed very, very quickly.

With a quick glance at the man behind him, Korra took the hand of the Fire Nation man, and he swept her into a dance.

He held her at the distance propriety dictated in the city, but the way he guided Korra was gentle. Inexplicitly it brought memories to her eyes, of a time Water Dancing, he gentle with her, who was rough. Korra held the tears at bay.

The fingers of his hand on her shoulder pressed down just a little, and Korra looked up to see concern bleeding through the Hawk mask. Korra shook her head and shrugged; they kept dancing.

One song bled into two, and he was as graceful as he had in the start. He was an attentive dance partner, open to her and helping her dance. Korra could have danced with him all night, when suddenly right at Hawks shoulder was the Water Tribe man.

Leopard bowed in their direction, and held out his own hand.

Behind her mask, Korra frowned. She'd danced with Hawk because… because… he made her heart ache, he was scarred, he reminded her of him.

But, Arctic Leopard had been with Hawk. Just like how, in the end… Sighing to herself, Korra detached herself from Hawk's arms, and willingly went to Leopard.

He danced with a stronger gait than Hawk had. It was like being swept in his arms, a rush. Like the strong currents of a river, pulling and pushing in every direction, only the bed (the steps) showing where it would lead.

And so they danced. Leopard glided her around the room, and the more they danced Korra slowly relaxed as she noticed that it wasn't just pushing, he was flowing with the music. He was a great dancer, just as good as the other one – just different.

The set ended to gentle applause, and Korra looked up her lashes through her bow to see his pale eyes pinning her in place. She was suddenly glad for the mask, as how hard she was blushing beneath.

A chime echoed the room, signaling the intermission. Exhaling slowly, Korra looked about the room, studiously avoiding Leopard's eyes. Perhaps now would be a good time to get some air, Korra thought. Nodding to herself, she separated from Leopard, and turned right into Hawk.

He was so quiet! Korra marveled as she looked him up and down. His hand was held out to her once again – not for a dance, for company. It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse, to break away, when she felt Leopards presence right at her back, as he reached across her to put a heavy palm on Hawk's shoulder.

Korra frowned, as Hawk's hand dropped.

She fought with herself. A great part of her wanted to snatch Hawk's hand up, tell him to not give up. The other half of Korra was aware of just how recognizable her voice was, even through a mask, people near and far would hear.

Lips pursed and eyes stormy behind her mask, Korra strode away, heading straight for the garden front doors. Once out, she wasted no time in getting herself lost in the garden, bypassing rock gardens, tree gardens, hedge gardens, and (as any other waterbender,) heading straight for the pond.

It was a still pond, manmade and any life that had been in it died or was hibernating with the coming of winter. Taking off her mask, Korra stepped out onto the pond, walked across until she was in the middle of it, and created an ice floe to sit on.

She'd learned a lot in the last year. A long talk with Iroh had her meditating fire, before going on to air. Living with a baby in the grounds had taught her patience. Breaking up with Mako had broken fantasies of perfect futures.

In retrospect, Korra should have known that one ahead of time. Time with him had been a time with colored lights and witty evenings, and each time their skin touched was a vision of an imperfect but beautiful future.

A tear froze on her cheek.

With a sniffle, Korra settled on the ice, and closed her eyes. In, and out.

In, and out.

Korra breathed, lost in water and air and chakras.

In, and out.

Delicate water bending brought the tear from her cheek. Leopard held it in his hand, like it held all the secrets of the world.

In fire nation clothes, his brother sat on his knees, staring avidly at the Avatar. His brother, who had gained the determination to claw away from being broken, looked heartbroken and in love in the same breath, his eyes tender.

Nodding to himself, Leopard expelled his chi.

Korra's eyes flew open wide; they were caught, and held, by a pair of water tribe blue eyes, in a face that looked different, burned… but she knew him. Tarrlok.

She flew at him, and his arms steadied her, gentle as always. A scarred hand reached up, thumb wiping tears from her eyes.

If that were Tarrlok… Korra glanced up at the other figure.

Leopard gave an almost careless shrug, and reached up to remove the mask.

He wasn't as scarred as Tarrlok was, but looked worse for it – likely, he'd spent so much time healing his brother, Noatak hadn't thought to heal himself.

With a wry smile, Noatak gracefully fell to sit beside them. More honest, seeing Tarrlok clinging to the Avatar – but the Avatar clinging back.

This time, it was Korra who held out her hand to him.

END.


End file.
